The Green Blouse
by belletylers
Summary: Tony wakes up one morning with a hangover,a nonsensical text from McGee and a mysterious woman in his shower. The mystery being, he has no idea who she is, or how she got there. Now he has to put the pieces together.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Randomly popped into my head. You know, plot bunny. Set around Season 5.**

Tony woke alone that Saturday morning to a pile of tangled sheets and a splitting headache.

It took him a moment to get his bearings; at first he wasn't even entirely sure he was in his own apartment. But once he figured that out, he slowly tried to do a sit-rep. There were questions to be answered, like:

Why didn't he remember anything from last night?

And…

Wait. He heard the shower turn on.

Just who was in his shower?

He could hear the water running. Oh, God how he hoped he hadn't brought back another waitress.

_OK, _he thought. _I've got approximately four minutes to figure out just who I brought home last night before an awkward confrontation. I'm an investigator – time to investigate._

He started with his bedroom. Killing two birds with one stone, he began to make up the bed again. As he lifted the duvet he saw something silver fall onto the floor.

It was a small, empty square package with a circular indentation – probably from being sat on. He quickly grabbed his wallet from the nightstand. Where the very same little package had sat for months was now gone.

Alright. His relationship with the mysterious shower woman was a little more serious than he initially thought. Then again, though, if he did bring back a woman why wouldn't he sleep with her? He wouldn't just bring back a strange woman to have a sleepover, and he mustn't have known her, because he'd remember something like that, right?

Right?

He shook off that unsettling thought and tried to look around for more clues. There was nothing in the room that would prove the identity of the girl. No clothes, no ID, no phone, nothing. He looked around for his own cell, thinking perhaps that would lead him somewhere.

It did.

**1 Unread Message.**

**Received: 3:47am **

**From: McGee**

_Hey tony abs wanted to make sure u guys got back ok. shes pretty hammered so shes gonna stay with me. hope gibbs doesnt find out. also her memory ran out on her phone so I think she used urs 2 take pics of the party._

"Wow," Tony thought aloud. "McGeek's grammar is usually perfect."

Then it hit him.

The office Christmas party. And Abby had taken pictures.

He scrambled to find the gallery, and find evidence. _Anything. _

They were mainly of the employees, and a bunch of casual acquaintances from other departments. Out of the forty or so pictures, he was only in a few of them. Pretty much all of them contained McGee or Gibbs, and one of the both of them awkwardly caught under the mistletoe, Gibbs giving everyone his death glare, and McGee just looking plain uncomfortable. Ziva only seemed to be in a few of the pictures too, which was weird, because she certainly wasn't camera shy.

After scrambling through them quickly, searching for signs of himself with a woman, he decided to look at things from a new perspective.

The pictures were taken chronologically, which meant they showed a timeline of some of his evening. The first picture was taken at around two, and the last one was at ten to three. He must have left at about three otherwise he wouldn't have been home before McGee texted him.

The first one was the geek himself and playing _beer pong_ of all things, and Ziva was watching them with some kind of disapproving but slightly amused smirk. Gibbs looked like he was about to slap Tony. The next few pictures he could see his grey suit and also Ziva's green blouse in the background while Abby took pictures of McGee. That was the last of either of them.

But then he looked again. One happy snap of the Elf Lord getting head slapped also captured his arm and a wave of dark hair leaving the room. They don't come back until…the last photo, which was everyone. Though Tony's shirt buttons looked uneven, his tie was all weird and he had a certain expression on his face…one even the man himself could recognise. His heart rate rising, he looked over at Ziva who, believe it or not, was sporting a _very _similar expression.

He looked at the bathroom door. That couldn't be Ziva in there, could it? Surely he'd remember sleeping with _Ziva?_

_No, _he told himself. _It can't be Ziva. You probably just had too much to drink…the picture isn't good quality anyway, and it's a small screen. You can't be sure what your face looks like._

He kept reassuring himself but as he shifted the duvet properly onto the bed, a garment of clothing fell out.

A blouse.

A green blouse.

**A/N: TBC!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for the response everyone! I'm sorry for the failure to update; RL has been HECTIC. I've had like no time at all. **

Tony ran his right hand over his face tiredly, staring at the silky garment in his left. His face felt sweaty, or was it his hands? He wasn't sure. His head was spinning, and his mind was running in circles, and frankly, it was far too early and under the effects of a hangover caused by what had obviously been far too much alcohol for such vigorous mental activity.

What the hell had he gotten himself into? Gotten both of them into? Not to mention, this behaviour wasn't exactly Agent of the Year material. Of course, he could only assume what 'this kind of activity' actually was. He was still uncertain to a degree about just what had transpired here last night. All he had to prove anything was an empty condom wrapper. He knew it was likely that Ziva would remember, but he half-hoped she wouldn't. In truth, he couldn't bear to see the look on her face if she found out he didn't remember anything; to be under the impression that she was just another number on the list of drunken and forgotten one-night stands, which she could never be.

He stared at the bathroom door, as if it would somehow transform into a magic mirror and reveal his memories.

_I guess, _he thought_, I better wait for the woman behind it._

Cautiously, he walked over to it, twisting the knob and opening it just a crack. He didn't try to peek – he wouldn't dare – he just placed her blouse on the floor that was within arm's reach and closed it again.

…

Ziva felt the hot water gush over her aching body. Her muscles were tight and stiff, and she groaned aloud as she dug her fingers into her left shoulder, wincing at the pain. The water seemed to ease the throbbing in her head, and the pain that came with it. She had never really been a big drinker, but every once in a while, it was nice to let her hair down, both metaphorically and literally. But somehow, she was always the consequence's target – meaning she always seemed to suffer for having a little fun. Evidently, that pattern had kept itself up at this year's Christmas party. After all, she was currently in Tony DiNozzo's shower.

She didn't know what to make of it all. They'd known each other for almost two and a half years. It had been more than just sex, right? Of course. It had to have been.

Ziva David was not one to let something slip from her memory, but she had to admit that she was having a little trouble fully recalling what had happened the night before. She remembered the party, but not much else.

The party…

_Twelve Hours Earlier_

She wore simple black pants and boots, but for a touch of festive colour a green blouse was added to the ensemble, and she smiled satisfactorily at her reflection in the full-length mirror in her apartment.

She was surprised to see Gibbs when she arrived in the lobby, but didn't question him for fear of him regretting the decision to come at all. She just gave him a friendly grin and a hello and the two shared a comfortably silent elevator ride. Once the doors opened at the third floor, Abby's extensive collection of Christmas songs were blasting through speakers. And the music, as Gibbs put it, "hits ya in the face like knuckles with bells on."

She wasn't entirely sure she knew what it meant, but smiled nonetheless, and tried to find, somewhere in the large crowd, her teammates.

Fortunately, she didn't need to find Abby. Abby quite easily came to her, and her hello was an especially enthusiastic bear hug, and an even bigger one for Gibbs. Ziva raised an eyebrow at the Goth's attire. Ziva knew, after two Christmases at NCIS, that Abby very much enjoyed the festive season, but this year it had been taken to a whole new level.

Her usual knee-high platforms had been adorned with bells on each of the twelve buckles on each shoe. Her pale legs were covered by red stockings and over them she had a red and green plaid miniskirt. Her T-shirt bore the slogan: _Santa, I've been a good girl this year. _On each pigtail, a sprig of holly decorated the hair elastic, and on her head, a Santa hat that lit up when one squeezed the fluffy ball at the top.

"Merry Christmas!" she exclaimed, then faltered. "Uhm…Happy Hanukkah?"

Ziva smiled. "Same to you, Abby," she said happily.

Moments later, Ducky was by Abby's side, looking very smart in a red and green bowtie. "Ah, season's greetin's be with ye," he said in his infrequently used yet perfectly intact Scottish accent. The four made their way over to the corner of the room that McGee and Tony had taken over. They all had to push past a few people to get there though, and what surprised Ziva was that no one took even a second look at Abby. They were all obviously used to her eccentricities.

"Merry Christmas, Officer David," Tony greeted with a charming smile, handing her a drink. She took it and raised it, tapping it against his, the paper cups barely making an audible sound. "Happy Hanukkah."

"That's a nice blouse," Tony said, with a tinge of discomfort to his voice, for temporarily forgetting her religious roots. "Green's your colour."

She smiled, but it was partnered with a frown, and he inwardly scolded himself.

_What are you doing, DiNozzo? This is a split personality from the guy who picks up hot women at bars every other week with little more than a wink and a smile. _

"It's nice to see you all dressed up," he went on, more thinking aloud than thinking about whether he should say it aloud. "You look nice. Not that you don't usually look nice…"

Good lord. He sounded like Abby when _she _was uncomfortable. He swilled the rest of his drink and quickly poured himself another. Alcohol – that was definitely what he needed.

…

In present time, Tony mentally slapped himself. If not for alcohol, he wouldn't be suffering from memory loss, he wouldn't have potentially slept with his partner, and his life wouldn't slowly be turning into a diluted version of _The_ _Hangover._

**A/N: I'll update when I can. Like I said, RL is seriously insane atm. So much homework!**


End file.
